Obscure Risk
by Seraphim25
Summary: What happened to the tracking bullet that Fiona slipped into Michael's gun? This explores what might have happened in the series finale if Michael had used that fake bullet to shoot Sonya. Mostly Michael and Fiona, with appearances from the rest of the gang.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone- This is my next multi-chapter story. I had been wondering about what happened to the tracker-bullet Fiona slid into Michael's gun in the second-to-last episode. I figured that if the bullet were hollow or fake, maybe it wouldn't have worked when Michael shot Sonya. This story is based off of what could have happened if Michael had used the tampered-with bullet to shoot Sonya on the roof.

I don't own Burn Notice in any way, shape, or form.

Enjoy!

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Bang! Fiona heard the gunshot ring out across the rooftop and prepared to take her final breath. She kept her gaze locked intensely on the man she loved, and was somewhat dismayed to realize that, even now, she still adored him. She had hoped that the all consuming love would have perished the moment he let Sonya pull the trigger, or the bullet entered her skin, but it hadn't. It still burned hot inside her heart, reminding her mercilessly of the future they would never get to share.

But wait, when had the bullet entered her skin? She felt no pain, and was still facing Michael at the same angle as before. Overcome with curiosity, she finally looked away from Michael's face and realized that his left hand was raised, and the gun in it was pointed at Sonya, who had blood trickling from her chest onto the sun-warmed roof.

Fiona felt a rush of relief and happiness flood through her, and she turned toward Michael, who was now looking at her with clear eyes. Eyes which she had been longing to see for months. Not those of a brainwashed wreck of a man, reduced to becoming a traitor, but those of a good man, for whom she was ready to give her life.

Fiona stood still for a moment more, reveling in his unadulterated gaze. She was about drift towards him, needing to approach the warmth for which she had been pining when another completely unexpected gunshot rang through the quiet air.

Fiona looked over in surprise and saw that Sonya had somehow been able to struggle to her knees and fire the shot. But how was she still alive? Fiona didn't waste time wondering, and instead pulled her own gun from behind her back and sent two bullets flying into Sonya's chest, killing her instantly.

Fiona turned towards Michael once again, ready to leave with him once and for all, but gasped in utter horror when she saw him.

He was lying prone on the roof, blood gushing out of a bullet wound just below his ribcage. Fiona rushed towards him, cursing the tears that blurred her vision, and settled on her knees beside him, panicked. Before she could say a word, she heard heavy footsteps approaching the roof and, hoping that it was not too late to protect Michael, shot the henchman who appeared, even before his eyes could adjust to the bright sunlight.

She quickly turned back to Michael, tucking her gun behind her and placing her hands over his wound. The feeling of his lifeblood drenching her fingers was enough to make her sick with grief, but she pushed her emotions down. His eyes were open, but he looked confused.

"Hang on, Michael. Stay with me," Fiona begged.

Michael saw her tears and reached up to touch her dewy face, but couldn't lift his arm high enough. She lowered her face to his instead, kissing his forehead briefly, then removed her phone from her pocket and dialed Sam's number.

"Did you get him?" Sam asked as soon as he'd picked up.

Fiona couldn't figure out how to answer that question and instead let out a loud sob. She knew it wasn't a useful response but it was the only sound she could make at that moment.

"Oh no Fi, what happened?" Sam knew something had gone terribly wrong.  
Fiona managed to pull herself together, knowing what was at stake. She couldn't believe she was crying, but after the day she'd had it only made sense.

"Michael's shot. He needs to get to a hospital and I-I can't lift him." Fiona cursed her small frame.

Sam answered before she could say more. "Jesse and I will be right there. Where are you?"

"Roof. Please hurry!" Fiona hung up and turned back to Michael, who seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. "I'm...sorry." He managed to choke out. "Thought...killed...her."

Fiona shook her head, replying, "Not your fault." Then she remembered. She had planted a fake bullet in Michael's gun. It was heavy enough to do some damage, but apparently not enough to kill Sonya. It really wasn't Michael's fault, it was her fault. All her fault.

She brushed her guilt aside to be dealt with later. Michael needed her complete focus. She kept applying pressure to his wound, waiting desperately for Sam and Jesse to arrive. Finally, just when she was about to try slinging the CIA agent onto her back, she heard their voices coming from the staircase and sighed in relief.

Sam and Jesse's eyes widened briefly at the scene before them. Fiona held Michael cradled in her arms, accompanied by a desperation of which neither man had thought her capable. They were stopped in their tracks by their own panic, but snapped out of it quickly and set about lifting Michael between the two of them. Fiona, wanting to help in any way possible, took out her gun once more, and prepared to cover her friends as they carried Michael from the building.

The team had to dodge a few bullets before exiting the building, but made it out in no time. They approached a Hummer, and Sam nodded for Fiona to hop in the back before laying Michael across the backseat. Fiona cradled his head in her lap as Sam and Jesse took their places in the front.

The drive to the hospital took around twenty minutes, but felt much longer. Fiona was frustrated by how slowly Sam was driving, but bit her tongue, instead whispering words of comfort to Michael. She thanked him repeatedly for saving her, and confessed her love for him over and over in quiet tones that she so rarely used. Thankfully, Sam and Jesse averted their gazes and refrained from asking questions during the whole drive.

When they finally arrived at the main entrance, the two men lifted Michael onto the stretcher that a nurse had provided and Michael was wheeled away. Fiona followed as far as she could, but was stopped by a nurse at the operating room doors.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to stay in the waiting room," the man in blue scrubs informed her kindly but firmly. "We'll be sure to have someone update you as soon as possible."

Fiona nodded to acknowledge what the nurse said. He left her with a clipboard full of paperwork and she made her way back to where Sam and Jesse were seated.

"Fi," Jesse began cautiously, "what happened?"

Fiona explained everything that had occured when she confronted Michael on the roof, and then confessed that it was all her fault for putting the tampered-with bullet in Michael's gun. Her two friends listened sympathetically. They looked dismayed but did not seem to blame her in the least.

"It's not your fault Fi," Jesse consoled, "it was just a mistake. Mike shouldn't have put you in that position to begin with." Jesse rubbed his brow and looked at her once more. "We should never have gone back for him."

Jesse knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he didn't completely mean them, but he was tired and stressed and still a bit angry at his friend for betraying them.  
He soon reized that his anger didn't hold a candle to Fiona's however, as she gave him a look that was incredibly vicious.

The petite woman started towards him, muscles taut, looking ready to do some serious damage, but Sam grabbed her by the arm. "He didn't mean it, did you Jesse?"

Jesse shook his head, grateful to Sam for offering him an escape. "I honestly didn't Fi. I'm sorry. It's just, Michael put us through a lot, especially this past year, especially you. I just, I'm not sure why you didn't walk away...ever."

Fiona nodded, accepting his honest apology. "I wish I knew too," she agreed, in a soft voice. "It's not that I can't walk away, I can and I have. And I know Michael would let me. But I just don't _want_ to. I always think I want to, but when it comes down to it-" she thought back to the final explanations of both Carlos and Campbell "-I will _always_ _choose Michael_." She sat back in her chair, alone with her thoughts. Anyone in the vicinity would be able to tell she was deep in though about something terribly important.

Jesse stepped outside, mentioning as unobtrusively as he could that he would call Madeline to update her.

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A couple of anxiety filled hours later, Michael's surgeon approached the solemn group. She was wearing a small smile, causing Fiona to feel optimistic.

"We managed to remove the bullet and stop the bleeding. It will take some recovery time and physical therapy, but Mr. Westen should recover nicely." Fiona, Sam, and Jesse all let out huge sighs of relief and broad grins spread across their faces. It looked as if the sun had peeked out from behind dark clouds to shine upon them.

"Can I see him?" asked Fiona, a bit breathlessly.

"He should be recovering from the anesthesia now, so that's fine. Just remember not to upset him or let him get worked up. He's doing well but too much excitement could cause complications."

Fiona nodded solemnly to show that she would keep Michael calm. Normally that would be a tall order for the Irish spitfire, but she was prepared to aid in Michael's recovery in any way possible.

She followed the surgeon to Michael's room and crept in, feeling a lump rise in her throat at the sight of the man she loved looking so weak and helpless. She went over to sit in the chair beside his bed, holding his hand tightly, hoping that the action would relieve the pressure of tears begging to escape her eyes. Michael's own eyes began to blink open and he peered around anxiously, calming only when he spotted Fiona.

"Fi," he croaked out.

"Shhh..." she whispered. "You were shot, but you're going to be okay."

Michael looked confused for a moment, then realization dawned on his groggy face. "Sonya tried to - and I was going to - oh Fi, I'm _so_ sorry."

Fiona shook her head rigorously, trying to assuage his partly misplaced guilt. "I'm fine, Michael; you saved me. I'm just glad that you're okay."

"No Fi, it's not okay. I'm gonna make this right, I swear." Michael tried to roll out of the hospital bed, and if he hadn't been so injured Fiona would have laughed at his clumsiness. Instead, she gently pushed him back down and placed a kiss on his forehead, looking into his familiar eyes.

"You need to stay here and get better. We'll worry about James when you've recovered."

"There's no time for that!" he exclaimed, clearly agitated.

Fiona remembered the surgeon's words and coaxed him to relax, wrapping her arms around him like she hadn't since nearly a year before. Holding him like that made her feel whole, complete, safe, and she wondered how she ever could have convinced herself that she was happy without him. Her closeness had a similar effect on Michael, and he was soon close to sleep. Before he drifted off, he made one final promise to her.

"I'll get him Fi, I swear. I will take James and his organization down, once and for all."

Once Michael was sleeping soundly, Fiona sat back in her chair, analyzing his words. She knew Michael, and if she thought he would allow himself to heal before going after James then she was fooling herself. It was clear that he would not rest until he had confronted James. But what really scared her was that he would once again get caught in James's web.

The past few months had been terrifying for her. When she had lost Michael to the CIA and then to his undercover work, it was like losing herself. She was a strong woman, and she had moved on, to some extent, but a part of her could never completely let Michael go.

When he had come back, she had been aloof and disconnected, but none of the feelings she had for him had dimmed. And even when she began suspecting Michael of sympathizing with James, she never once considered leaving him behind. Michael was a good man, but he was a great spy. And great spies always ran the risk of losing themselves. Fiona knew she had been his touchstone, but was surprised by just how lost Michael had been without her.

So now, keeping watch beside his hospital bed after having nearly lost him forever, she decided it was time for her to remove some of the burden from his shoulders. She could not let him go back into James's clutches, no matter how determined he was to make things right.

Fiona gave Michael one final kiss and whispered an 'I love you.' Then she left Michael's room and the hospital, ready to defeat James by herself, for the man she loved. The Irishwoman went home, wracking her brains in order to figure out the best way to find James. She knew he had been in the helicopter that was approaching the roof where she had faced down Michael, but she wasn't sure where he would go after the plan had fallen through. She supposed Michael would know where James was, or at least be able to contact him, but asking for help would defeat the purpose of doing this on her own.

As Fiona entered her house, she opened the bag of Michael's bloody clothes and personal items that she had taken from the hospital. She dug through, throwing away the torn shirt, and tossing the bloody pants and underwear into the laundry with some stain remover. She and Michael together had perfected the art of getting blood out of most fabrics.

The only two things left in the bag were Michael's sunglasses and cell phone. She was about to put them aside for safekeeping, when she realized that the phone in her hand was the key to finding James. She scrolled through the call log and saw the number labeled 'James.' Fiona nearly dialed then and there, but decided that getting some sleep would be a better move, so that she would be able to form a rational plan and not be killed before she could kill James Kendrick.

If Michael had been there Fiona knew he would have been against contacting James in such a bold way. But she had adopted this mission, so she would complete it in her own way. After all, _she_ had been the one to kill Carla and Larry, not Michael. She had no problem with getting her hands dirty, especially for those she loved.

Fiona lay in her bed, exhausted from the long, emotional day. Then, just when she was on the cusp of sleep, she heard a beeping sound. She knew the unfamiliar tone wasn't coming from her phone, but when she saw that Michael's phone was lit up, she realized he must have gotten a text message. She suddenly felt wide awake and went over to grab the phone and read the message, hoping it would hold some clue as to where she could find James.

What she saw was even better than she had expected. The text was from James himself, and read: "Saw what happened on the roof. You did what had to be done. We can still change the world. Meet me at the West Key Marina in thirty and we can chat."

Fiona grinned to herself, hardly able to believe her luck. She quickly packed her favorite sniper rifle and got into her car, stopping in the parking lot of a marine shop next the the marina. She snuck around in the bushes, trying to find a spot which gave her a clear view of James.

Unfortunately, she was never able to find the right spot, because only minutes after getting into position, she felt the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her head.

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Please review! I'd like to know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Hi! Updates might be slower on this one because I'm in a different country. I'll do my best to keep up though!

I don't own Burn Notice.

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"James wants to talk to you," a female voice snarled into her ear. Fiona knew immediately that she had made a huge error by rushing into things. She could have kicked herself for not taking more time to plan, but she hadn't dared miss out on the opportunity.

The first thought that entered her mind upon being led to James Kendrick's SUV was that if she died, Michael would once again be in danger. She hoped Sam or Jesse would help him, but she knew that as loyal as the men were, she was Michael's true guardian angel.

"You might as well just kill me now!" she spat at James. "I'll never be any good to you."

"Oh, come now, Fiona," James began in his sickeningly sweet voice. "We both want the same thing here."

"You want your head splattered all over the pavement? I didn't realize we had so much in common," she bit back sardonically.

James chuckled, unfazed by Fiona's outburst. "No, but we both want Michael Westen. I assume you intercepted my message before he could read it?"

Fiona hid her surprise. Apparently, James was unaware of Michael's change of heart, as well as his injured state. She decided to play along. "I wanted a few more days with him before he disappears with you for who knows how long."

"Ah, I see. You feel like a jilted lover."

As much as it pained her to admit it, those words were spot on. Fiona decided not to dwell on the statement and instead let her curiosity get the best of her. "Aren't you...upset with Michael for shooting Sonya?"

James's eyes darkened and Fiona subconsciously took a step back, despite the guns that were targeting her. "What Michael did was...regrettable. But Sonya underestimated the power of his feelings...for you. That was her error. I, on the other hand, will honor your connection, rest assured."

Fiona narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Oh? How so?" she asked, only partially feigning interest.

"I'm aware of the power you hold over Michael. I need him for certain things, but if you are able to support us in our endeavors, then I can promise you that you will never again have to wonder where your boyfriend is, or when he will return."

After hearing that brief speech, Fiona finally understood how Michael had been so brainwashed by the man before her. He seemed to have a knack for knowing one's deepest desire, and making promises that made such desires completely attainable.

James reminded Fiona of the snake in the story of Adam and Eve. She had always wondered why Eve had done the one thing that would destroy her, and now she understood. Just like James, the snake must have looked into Eve's heart and seen the thing she would do anything to get. After that, convincing her to do something as harmless as eating a piece of fruit would have been child's play.

Fiona noticed that James was looking at her expectantly and tried to look intrigued, although it wasn't hard since James's offer was tempting.

"That sounds like a deal I could live with."

James smiled encouragingly seeming to be pleased with her response. "Excellent. Now, I will allow you and Michael to spend two days together before I need him, as long as you have him call me tomorrow, so that I can ensure he received my message and also agrees to our plan."

Fiona nodded right away, hardly able to believe that she would walk out of the trap alive. "Of course, thank you." She nearly choked on the words, but didn't want to make James suspicious. She decided she should appear as grateful as possible to convince James that she was caught in his sticky, shiny web.

James motioned for his employees to let Fiona go, and she walked back to her car and drove around for a while, so as to lose the tail she knew James had ordered. When she was sure that she was no longer being followed, Fiona drove back to the hospital, trying to figure out how she would convince Michael to let her take down James by herself.

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When Fiona entered Michael's hospital room she saw Madeline, lying uncomfortably on the bench next to Michael's bed. She felt terrible that she had not talked to Madeline since before Michael had been injured. Gently, Fiona put her hand on the older woman's shoulder and shook her awake.

"Fiona, honey. Is that you?" she asked as she woke up.

"Yes, Madeline. I'm sorry I haven't been here, I just had some things to take care of."

Madeline clearly knew that Fiona was leaving out some important details, but seemed too tired to fish for them.

"How is he?" Fiona questioned, glancing towards Michael's slumbering form.

"Much better," said Madeline, smiling. "He's still in some pain from the wound, but the doctor said she was pleased with the progress he's made so far. He can go home in a couple of days as long as everything continues to improve."

Fiona let out a breath of relief upon hearing Madeline's good news. "That's wonderful!" she whispered, then took a seat beside Michael, gazing at his still pale face. She looked at Madeline once more. "Why don't you go home and get some rest," she suggested. "I'm sure Charlie will want to see you in the morning."

Madeline nodded and stood up, placing a kiss on the foreheads of both her son and Fiona before leaving the hospital room.

After Madeline was gone, Fiona pulled her chair closer to Michael's bed, wrapping his hand in her own, and laying her head against his uninjured side. Listening to the steady beat of his heart, and feeling the warmth of his body beside her, Fiona was finally able to drift off into a restful sleep.

The following morning, Fiona was jostled out of sleep by Michael, who was trying to get out of bed. "Wait!" exclaimed Fiona, "You're going to make it worse." She pointed to his bandaged side.

Michael simply smiled at her and shook his head. "It's fine Fi. The doctor said as long as I keep my left arm in a sling so I don't irritate the wound, I can do whatever I'd like." Fiona had a feeling he was exaggerating. "And the physical therapist said that it's good for me to do everyday activities."

"I don't think she knew how dangerous your everyday activities are," she retorted. Michael simply smiled and walked towards the bathroom.

"Just let me get cleaned up and then I wanna go for a walk. A short walk," he added quickly, catching Fiona's concerned glare.

Fiona listened to Michael using the bathroom and brushing his teeth. His movements sounded a bit more clumsy than usual, but Fiona was shocked at how well he was doing. She had watched him recover from bullet wounds before, and some were worse than others. Fiona was grateful that this time wasn't too bad. She was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of Michael cursing under his breath. "Do you need some help in there?" she called out.

"No," was his frustrated reply. Fiona, having always prided herself in knowing when not to listen to the spy, walked into the tiny bathroom anyway.

"I can help you with that," she said in a teasingly seductive tone, when she saw that Michael was trying to give himself a sponge bath. The man shook his head vigorously in reply, causing Fiona to feel a bit hurt. "You don't want me to?" she asked, although it was clear she was referring to more than the sponge bath. She thought maybe she had misconstrued Michael's feelings when he had saved her life the day before.

"Do you really want to Fiona?" Michael could tell she was hurt but wasn't sure why.

"You just got out of a pretty serious relationship. I don't want to move too fast here."  
Fiona rolled her eyes, not sure whether to feel comforted by Michael's concern about her feelings or tear her hair out over the fact that he still didn't get it. Although she had to admit that she had given him ample reason to doubt her feelings over the past year.

"I tried to move on, again, and it didn't work, again. I was upset when Carlos left," she swallowed and continued, "but it wasn't the end of the world. I wasn't going to follow him across the Atlantic or spend the foreseeable future trying to get him back, even when it was hopeless." She was no longer talking about Carlos, and Michael knew it.

"It wasn't hopeless Fi," he said, and handed her the sponge. Fiona washed him tenderly, reveling in being intimate with him again, even in this form. When she had finished drying him off, she helped him get dressed and led him back into the room.

"Are you sure you're up for a walk?" she asked, and he nodded confidently. As they began heading out to the otherwise unoccupied hospital grounds, Fiona remembered her promise to James. She had no intention of actually letting Michael go anywhere near James, but she needed him to call the evil man in order to buy a couple of days to plan a way to capture him.

Michael and Fiona found a wooden bench to sit on, and Fiona took out Michael's phone, which she had brought with her. "I need you to call James."

Michael looked at her suspiciously. "Why?"

"I need a couple more days to work with the CIA on a plan to capture him. He said that if you called and told him you were still loyal to him, then he'd give us a little time to spend together."

Michael looked as though he had just had the wind knocked out of him, causing Fiona to wish she had explained things a bit better.

"You called James?" asked Michael, sounding angry.

"No," Fiona answered. Michael looked slightly appeased until Fiona added, "He texted you to meet up, and I met with him instead."

Fiona was never truly afraid of Michael, but she sure came close in that moment. He had turned bright red, and it looked like he had forgotten to breathe. His fists were clenched, causing Fiona to worry about his physical well-being. "The doctor said to avoid any major stress," she reminded him, although she knew it would be futile.

"You _met_ with James!" he finally exploded, his voice booming within the small garden. "What were you _thinking_?"

Fiona shrank back slightly; usually she was the one doing the yelling. "I was just going to shoot him, but some of his men snuck up on me," she defended.

"I told you that I would take care of it! You could have been _killed_! How are you not dead right now?" Michael's tone of voice was callous, but the fear in his eyes was apparent. Fiona wasn't pleased with the way he was treating her, but she decided to explain things to him anyway.

"I thought he _was_ going to kill me," she said honestly, "but instead he said he'd give us some time together regularly, as long as you agreed to work with him, exclusively. I only pretended to go along with it, but the deal sure is tempting," she added.

Michael remained quiet, gnawing on his lower lip. Fiona took it as a sign that he wasn't going to argue further, and handed Michael his cell phone. "Just call James and tell him you'll meet up with him the day after tomorrow, and then I can start working with your government buddies on a plan to apprehend him." Fiona scrunched her nose up in distaste at the thought of working with the CIA, but she wanted James gone, for good.

Michael finally looked at her calmly. Fiona couldn't help but be reminded of a time she had stood outside of her house while the eye of a hurricane was directly overhead. There was no obvious sign of danger, but she knew she was being encompassed by it.

"I'll call James," he finally spoke, "but you aren't going anywhere near him. You will sit out on this mission."

If Michael hadn't been shot so recently, Fiona would have kneed him in the groin. Hard. As it was, she shot him a look that had the potential to do some serious damage. "I wasn't asking for your permission. I was telling you what I'm going to do."

"No," Michael shook his head. "It's too dangerous. I'll finish this mission myself." He was reminding Fiona of how overprotective he had been of her when she had gotten out of jail. It was sweet in a way, but mostly it was pigheaded and annoying.

"You just got shot. You couldn't even walk out here without losing your breath. Stop trying to be a damn lone wolf and let me finish this for you!"

"No!" shouted Michael, being uncharacteristically loud once again. "You've done too much for me already! When we were on the roof I almost- well, I _failed_ you. I almost lost you...again. I can't let you be in danger for me, not ever again. Please, do you understand?"

Fiona felt tears flooding her eyes at the look on Michael's face and the sincerity in his words. She had never heard Michael talk so openly before. She could see the guilt in his expression, and wondered how they had ever drifted so far apart. Clearly neither one of them had truly desired the separation. Fiona lifted her hand to Michael's jaw and sighed.

"I know you want to keep me safe. But you are in no condition to take down anybody right now. _Please_, let me do this for you."

Michael looked sympathetic to her plea, and Fiona expected him to give in. But all he did was wipe a couple of errant tears from his cheeks and shake his head. It seemed he was finally done sacrificing his love for his career.

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Thanks for reading! _Please_ review!_  
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	3. Chapter 3

Here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

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Fiona had left the hospital later that morning, promising Michael that she would come back that afternoon with his favorite brand of yogurt. Sam was on his way, so she knew Michael wouldn't be lonely. If anything, she suspected that Michael would he inundated with stories of the good old days, to distract him from his pain. She got in her car and drove straight to Jesse's, needing his help with a plan.

When Jesse answered his door, he seemed surprised to see Fiona. "I thought you'd be at the hospital with Mike."

"I was," Fiona informed him, but I need to do something that will help catch James Kendrick and I need your help."

"You got it. Come on in."

Fiona sat on Jesse's couch and filled him in on her meeting with James and the deal she had made. He seemd a bit upset that she had done all of it by herself. "Fi, we could have helped you with that! What were you thinking, meetig James without backup?"

"I was thinking that Michael needs to be protected and _I'm_ the best person to do that. You and Sam were ready to cut your losses and give up on him!"

Jesse had to admit that she had a point. Fiona had explained the details of what happened on the roof when she had confronted Michael, and Jesse had to admit that if anyone but Fiona, and maybe Madeline, had faced the spy, then Sonya would still be alive.

Jesse simply nodded, and Fiona went on to explain that she needed to fake a call from Michael to James, so that she could meet up with James and bring a SWAT team as backup.

"Why do we have to fake a call?" asked Jesse. "Why not just have Mike make the call himself?"

"Michael is being difficult. He seems to think I can't handle myself, so I'll have to do this without him."

Jesse knew better than to get in the middle of a conflict between Michael and Fiona, so he simply said, "Alright, let's do this."

For the next few hours, Jesse and Fiona searched through various voice recordings they had of Michael, to find words that would be useful in faking a voicemail to James. They used a computer program to splice the recordings together into a coherent message. When they were done, Fiona dialed James's number and waited with bated breath, hoping the call would go to voicemail. Thankfully, miraculously, it did, and Jesse hit the button for the fake message to play.

"James. It's Michael," the recording said in a slightly choppy but convincing voice. "I talked to Fi and we are both on board. Thank you for the second chance, I can't tell you how much it means to me. Text me the location of the meet and I will see you soon."

Fiona ended the call and both she and Jesse let out sighs of relief. "Now we'll just have to wait and see if it worked."

Seven hours later, Fiona was again sitting by Michael's hospital bed. She had gotten in touch with Strong and managed to convince him to let her complete the mission for Michael. Strong had been a bit reluctant to keep Michael in the dark, but had to admit that he had been a huge liability lately.

Michael had fallen asleep a half an hour before, and Fiona decided to take the opportunity to check his cell phone for a reply from James. There was one new text message, which read: "Michael, glad to hear you are doing well. I will meet you tomorrow morning at the abandoned warehouse at the end of Whelden Street. Ten o'clock. Come alone."

Fiona let out a sigh of relief; apparently the plan had worked. She now had a location at which she could meet and apprehend James. It was time to prepare...in other words, figure out which guns to pack.

Leaving Michael's side, Fiona walked to one of the back doors of the hospital. From there, she called Agent Strong to tell him where James would be on the following day. Strong suggested that she wear a wire so that his team would know when to infiltrate the warehouse. Fiona agreed and then repeated their plan once more, to ensure they were on the same page.

"So I'll meet with James and tell him that Michael's wound has become infected and he is resting in bed. Then, when he follows me out of the warehouse to go see Michael, I'll say the code phrase, 'Let's take my car,' giving your team the go ahead to shoot him."

"That's right," confirmed Strong. "Although shooting him should be considered a last resort. We'll see you tomorrow at headquarters bright and early so you can get suited up. And Ms. Glenanne, thank you again."

Fiona stayed in Michael's hospital room again that night, keeping watch over him between bouts of slumber. His breathing had definitely improved, and she was glad to see that his movements did not cause him much pain anymore. The doctor had told them earlier in the evening that Michael would likely be ready for discharge in twenty-four hours, providing he would be staying with someone who could care of him.

Michael had looked hopefully at Fiona but, knowing that she was about to undertake a dangerous mission, she suggested he stay with his mother. The barely hidden disappointment on Michael's face had nearly broken her heart, but she doubted that he would want to have anything to do with her after he found out she had gone behind his back to trap James.

Both Michael and Fiona woke early the next morning. Fiona had hoped that Michael would sleep in a bit, so she wouldn't have to lie to him once more about where she was going. Instead, she made up some excuse about needing to babysit Charlie so Madeline could go to sunrise yoga. She knew that Michael was still feeling under-the-weather when he failed to call her on her bluff.

Three hours later, Fiona was wired up and waiting inside the warehouse for James, feeling the familiar pre-mission anxiety on which she had once thrived. Now, however, she just wanted the day to be over. Soon, Fiona heard Strong's voice coming from the tiny speaker in her auditory canal. "He's arrived."

She unconsciously held herself straighter and gripped her H&K more tightly. Within minutes, James had entered the warehouse, accompanied by three armed guards. He stopped in his tracks upon seeing Fiona.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," he said with a hint of anger in his voice.

"I wasn't expecting to be here," Fiona retorted, preparing to really sell her story.

"Michael's gunshot wound got infected. He should be okay, but he was too weak to meet you today. He asked me to come instead."

James kept his eyes trained on her, looking suspicious. "I asked to meet with Michael; talking to you does me no good."

"Well I can take you to see him if you'd like. He's staying at my place for the next few weeks." Fiona began walking towards the exit, expecting him to follow. Instead, James's guards pointed their guns at Fiona.

"I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you." The Irishwoman felt dread rise up in her chest. James sounded confident and angry, a dangerous combination. "I know for a fact that Michael is not at your house. In fact, if my informants were correct, he is currently lying in a hospital bed, just ten miles south of here."

From the evil smirk on James's face, Fiona could tell that things would not end well for her. The guards' trigger-fingers were far too twitchy for her to have any hope of getting out of there alive. Fiona decided to try one last, desperate tactic.

"If you kill me, Michael will never join you. He will hunt you down. He won't rest until you are worse than dead."

James gave an eerie chuckle. "I'm not worried about that." Fiona couldn't help but be puzzled by his words, despite the gravity of the situation.

"You really don't see it?" asked James, shaking his head. "You are _everything_ to him. Without you, he's lost."

Fiona very nearly laughed out loud. "You are even _crazier_ than I thought. Michael's chosen to be without me many times, and he's done just fine."

"Has he?" James asked, sounding almost as if he were teasing her. "Or has he chosen to be _with_ you many times, despite the liability?" Fiona couldn't think of a response to that, but she chalked it up to the three guns that were aimed at her head.

"I apologize, I don't mean to draw this out. Are you ready to die now?"

At his words, Fiona couldn't help but think about the state her life was in at the moment. She had risked her life to save the man she loved, but it seemed her death would be in vain. Michael would either join James, kill James, or die trying. And in the end they would never have that cottage in Ireland that she'd dreamed of when she was young.

_But you knew that_, Fiona told herself. With the image of the home that she and Michael would never share still clear in her mind, Fiona predicted exactly how her life would end. She would go down saving Michael, giving up her entire being for him, just as she had always suspected.

Once Fiona made her decision, everything moved impossibly quickly. James reached for his gun, causing the guards to lower their own weapons slightly. Fiona grabbed her H&K as fast as she could, and before James had placed his finger on the trigger, Fiona's bullet had entered his chest. She then turned towards the guard nearest to her, prepared to take at least one more person down with her. However, as she pulled the trigger, she heard not one, but two and then three cracks of gunfire burst through the air. Fiona knew that she was dead before she hit the ground.

Once again, for the second time in one week, Fiona was surprised to find herself whole and unbloodied. She didn't know how it was possible. There had been four of them and only one of her. She had made the ultimate sacrifice for Michael, and prepared to leave her life behind. But somehow, impossibly, she was still standing, still breathing.

_What happened? _Fiona questioned, looking wildly around the warehouse. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw _him_, and all her questions were answered.

Michael hurried towards her, wrapping her in a brief embrace before standing back to make sure she was okay. After he was satisfied that she was indeed unharmed, Michael grabbed Fiona by the hand and led her rapidly away from the lifeless bodies that surrounded them.

He led her wordlessly over to where the mobile command center was parked, and waited impatiently until she had been dewired. Agent Strong walked up to the both of them, looking both shocked and relieved at the same time.

"Westen!" he barked. "You could have blown the whole damn mission!"

"Get out of my way Strong," said Michael rudely, pulling Fiona behind him, who still appeared shaken.

"Wait! You still have to be debriefed, Glenanne!"

"Not today," Michael ordered. "She's done more than enough for you already."

"That's not your call, Westen!" Strong shouted after them. "There will be serious consequences for this!" Michael ignored him and led Fiona to his car, motioning for her to get in and pealing away from the scene.

Finally, after a few moments of watching Michael drive, Fiona was able to find her voice. "What was that?" she asked. "How did you know?"

Michael frowned, not tearing his eyes from the road, and simply said, "Jesse."

Fiona cursed. "I told him not to tell you. I'm going to kick his-"

"You would have died!" Michael shouted suddenly. "You were about to die! If I hadn't..." He let the sentence dangle, leaving Fiona to fill in the blanks. "Why did you do that? Why did you lie to me about it?"

"I did what I had to do," Fiona said seriously, but the words reminded her of ones that Michael had spoken to her too many times. Perhaps she was finally seeing things from his point of view.

"So did I," said Michael.

"If Jesse was so worried he could have come himself. You didn't have to come," she retorted.

"Yes I did!" Michael banged his fist against the steering wheel. "I couldn't just sit in the hospital and wait for them to bring your body to me!"

"Pull over," Fiona ordered, but Michael kept driving, hands clenched around the steering wheel. "Pull over now!"

That time Michael obeyed, but still asked, "Why?"

"Because we need to talk. Right now."

Michael groaned. After all these years he still dreaded their "talks".

"Michael," Fiona said in a soothing voice as soon as the car had stopped. "I know you didn't want me to go after James."

"Then why did you do it?" Michael asked in exasperation.

"Because I knew if I didn't then you would."

"Yes I would, to _protect_ you!"

"And I did it to protect _you_."

Michael sighed but gave no retort. Fiona knew that he knew she was capable of taking care of herself, and him. One of the things she'd always loved about him was that he never treated her as a damsel in distress.

The two sat in silence for a long while, and Fiona could tell that Michael was deep in thought by the way his brow was furrowed.

"James is dead," he said suddenly.

"Yes..."

"It's over. You, my mom, Sam, Jesse...you're all free now."

"I suppose we are," Fiona allowed, wondering if there was a point to Michael's musing.  
Michael looked at Fiona for a brief moment and, alarmingly, she was unable to sense what he was thinking.

Just as she was about to open her mouth and demand that he vocalize what was going through his head, he turned the key in the ignition and began to drive once more.

"Should I drop you off at your place?" Michael asked.

Fiona simply nodded, silently pondering what would come next for her, and whether Michael would be sticking around.

When they arrived at Fiona's house, the Irishwoman insisted that Michael come inside. He still looked a bit pale, although he was moving around better than he had since he'd been shot. She cooked up a couple of microwaveable meals that were sitting in her freezer, and the two of them ate quickly, with very little conversation; they were simply too exhausted. Fiona took a shower, and by the time she had gotten out, Michael was lying on the couch, fast asleep.

Her heart melted at the sight of him, and she remembered vividly the days when she would have curled up next to him. Fiona shook herself out of her memories, and settled into her own bed for the night.

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Thanks fo reading! Please review!

And I don't own Burn Notice.


	4. Chapter 4

Here is the next chapter. Sorry it's been longer than usual between updates. I'll finish this story, and if you're not sick of me, I should have new ones coming!

As always, I don't own Burn Notice. I'm writing for fun, not profit.

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Fiona was still sleeping the next morning when her cell phone began ringing. Bleary-eyed, she glanced at the illuminated screen and was surprised to see that the caller ID read 'Carlos.' Unsure what to expect, she considered ignoring the call, but her curiosity got the best of her.

"Hello?" she said, feeling a bit uneasy.

"Fiona. How are you?" Carlos sounded friendly but a bit nervous.

"I'm alright," she said, wondering why her ex-boyfriend had called. She'd thought she wouldn't hear from him again. A part of her was pleased to hear his voice, familiar and caring. But it also reminded her of the tough times she went through after Michael had broken his promise and left her for what she'd sworn would be the last time.

"I've been thinking about you. How have you been?" Fiona thought she knew where Carlos was going with this call, and she wasn't looking forward to the impending conversation. Honesty seemed like the best option though.

"I've been busy, helping Michael finish his mission."

"Oh yeah. How's that going?" She could tell from Carlos's tone of voice that he didn't really want to know how it was going, but she humored him nonetheless.

"Well, we just managed to take down the entire organization. It's all over."

"Wow," breathed Carlos. "So...what's next for you?" Fiona heard the poorly disguised hope in his voice, but knew she couldn't lead him on.

"Carlos, you ended things. And you were right. It wasn't fair of me to drag you down with us." Carlos didn't miss her choice of pronoun, but wasn't completely discouraged.

"It's alright. I'm sorry for getting so upset. I realized that you were trying to save my life, and I didn't appreciate it the way I should have." Fiona couldn't think of what to say, so she didn't say anything at all. Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. "Anyway, if you want to go out to dinner sometime, just let me know."

A part of Fiona wanted to turn him down right away, but another part, the part that had been disappointed by Michael too many times, answered, "Maybe I will."

After Fiona hung up her phone, she didn't even attempt to go back to sleep. She had far too much on her mind. As she brushed her teeth and washed her face, Fiona tried to ignore the unease that was gnawing at her. She knew that she wanted to be with Michael, but would he ever commit to her? Wouldn't it be better to be with Carlos, a man who wanted to share every bit of his life with her? Fiona loved Michael more than anyone, but perhaps in time her feelings for Carlos would strengthen, if she gave him a chance. The Irishwoman decided to keep those thoughts in the back of her mind. Although she was notorious for jumping the gun, she wanted to take her time with this life-altering decision.

After Fiona had gotten dressed, in a blue outfit that matched Michael's eyes exactly, she headed into the kitchen. As the tantalizing smells of breakfast wafted her way, she realized she was hungry. She went out to see what he was cooking and felt her stomach grumble at the sight of fresh fruit, yogurt, and buttered toast on the table. Michael smiled when he saw her and handed her a steaming mug of Irish breakfast tea.

"I thought I'd make you breakfast to make up for falling asleep on your couch last night. I didn't mean to impose." Fiona shook her head, causing a strand of her ruffled hair to fall over her face.

"It's not a problem; I liked having the company. This looks delicious." Fiona sat down at the table and Michael joined her. The couple ate in an uncomfortable silence at first, neither wanting to bring up the painful events of the past year. Fiona was debating whether or not to tell Michael about the phone call she had gotten from Carlos, when he began speaking.

"Strong called me this morning. He wants you to go to a debriefing this afternoon."

Fiona raised her eyebrows at the information. "Really? I'm surprised he wants to wait that long. I thought he might be dragging me out of bed this morning."

"He wanted to," Michael admitted, "but I told him you needed time to rest." Fiona had a feeling that delaying the debriefing hadn't been as easy as Michael was making it sound, but she was grateful that he had stood up for her.

"How long do you think it will take?" asked Fiona.

"Probably a few hours, maybe more. Why?" Michael brought a spoonful of blueberry yogurt up to his mouth.

"I wanted to have your mom and Charlie and Sam and Jesse over for dinner tonight. It's been a long time since we were all together without the CIA hanging over our heads. But I don't know if I'll have time to get everything ready if I'm in meetings all afternoon."

Fiona knew her disappointment was obvious. She was surprised however when Michael said, "I've got the day free. How about if I invite everyone and make sure we have some food? All you have to do is show up."

Fiona's eyes lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. "Really? That won't be too much trouble?"

Michael gave a small chuckle. "I owe you more than that Fi. Besides, it's a good idea. I've missed everyone too." Fiona could see the guilt and sadness in Michael's eyes, and wished she could take it away. She hoped that catching up with his family and friends that night would help him get back to normal. It was always painful for her to see him in the midst of post-mission jitters.

The two finished their breakfast, chatting about what foods they should have at the gathering that evening. Michael then offered to drive Fiona to her debriefing. She protested at first, not wanting to give up a piece of her independence, but she could tell Michael needed as much company and reassurance as he could get, so she finally agreed.

The drive to the CIA headquarters wasn't terribly long, but Michael wouldn't shut up the entire time. At first Fiona couldn't figure out why the normally introverted spy was jabbering nonstop about what she should expect at her meetings that day. When he began fidgeting physically however, she realized that he was nervous, apparently for her. This behavior was so uncharacteristic of Michael though, that Fiona decided to voice her concerns.

"Are you _worried_?" she asked incredulously, after Michael had told her not to touch her hair or face when answering a question, as that might lead to people thinking she was lying.

"Not worried just - I want to make sure this goes smoothly. I want to be done with this...done with the CIA. I don't trust them." Fiona nearly pinched herself to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Had Michael Westen really just said he was done with the CIA? She would believe it when she saw it, but even hearing him say the words was enough to make her lightheaded.

She decided not to make a big deal out of his statement, so as not to get her own hopes up. She had been burned too many times to even approach the flame now. Instead she simply reassured him. "This won't be my first interrogation, Michael. Just worry about setting up the dinner tonight. I want a home cooked meal. If you order take-out...I'll shoot you."

She grinned and then looked out the window. They had arrived at their destination. Michael walked with her as far as he could, but wasn't allowed to enter the secure hallway where the debriefing was to be conducted. He left her with a simple "Good luck."

Twenty minutes later, after being led through a metal detector and leaving all her personal belongings in a tiny locker, Fiona was sitting in a metal chair in front of a long table filled with approximately fifteen solemn looking agents. A part of her wished that Michael had been allowed to accompany her. She was fully cabable of taking care of herself, but she also wouldn't have minded a little moral support right then.

_You completed a high priority mission for these people,_ she reminded herself. _They owe you big time. _The pep talk would have worked a lot better had she not been sitting in front of what looked like a panel of emotionless robots. Fiona sat quietly for a moment, wishing she had paid more attention to Michael's debriefing advice, when the slightly pudgy woman sitting directly in front of her began to speak.

"We are here to ensure that the mission undertaken by one Fiona Glenanne was completed with the utmost legality and efficiency." The unnamed female agent then addressed Fiona directly. "Please tell us how you came to be a part of this mission."

Fiona took a deep breath, then explained truthfully how she had requested to take down James Kendrick. She then described in detail the plan she had come up with, and how it was carried out. Fiona was sure never to mention Michael's name; she wanted to protect him as best she could.

When she had finished speaking, the agents took turns asking her about the details of her story, and requested that she repeat certain parts. Then, when everything that could be said had been said, the agents filed out of the room and were replaced by over a dozen more. Fiona was once again asked to share the mission details, causing her to grow horribly tired of repeating herself. Just when her voice began growing hoarse from all the talking she was doing, that group of agents left, and yet another group entered. By that time Fiona could hardly keep her own name straight, let alone the details of her mission, but she did the best she could. Eventually, when that group of agents had heard enough, they exited as well.

Fiona held her breath, hoping desperately that she would not be forced to repeat herself yet again. She let out a huge sigh of relief when a security guard entered and told her she was free to go. After she had gotten her belongings back, she called Michael and asked him to pick her up. She was glad she hadn't driven herself because she was thoroughly exhausted from her afternoon.

Fiona waited for Michael outside the building, allowing herself to close her eyes against the warm Miami sun, which was now low in the sky. When he pulled up she got in and he looked her over worriedly. "How did it go?" he asked.

"Well it wasn't fun," she said, "but I got through it. Now I know what you've had to go through all these years." Michael smiled and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"My debriefings aren't usually so rigorous. They're harder on people who aren't official agents." Fiona looked out the window at the darkening sky. She wanted to curl up in bed when she got home, but then she remembered the dinner she had asked Michael to plan.

"Did you get in touch with everyone about tonight?" Michael nodded but didn't say anything. "Did you get the food?" she prompted. He simply nodded again. "It had better not be Chinese," Fiona mumbled, a bit concerned that Michael wasn't offering up any information.

When they arrived at Fiona's house however, she saw that there had been no reason to worry. Three cars were parked along the street, and she could see Charlie running outside to greet them. He ran up to Fiona first, causing her to smirk at Michael competitively. Charlie then went over to his uncle, who scooped him up and walked inside, Fiona following close behind.

When she saw the table, the Irishwoman let out a tiny gasp. It was beautifully set with her nicest plates and glasses. She saw steamed green beans and a fresh caprese salad already laid out, and a freshly baked fish sitting on the stove.

"This is lovely!" she exclaimed. "Did you do all this yourself?" Michael nodded, turning a bit pink at her praise.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her.

"I know I'm starving!" Sam butted in. He clapped Fiona and Michael on the shoulders affectionately, and sat down at the table with his beer.

"Thanks for inviting us over tonight Fi," added Jesse, popping open a bottle of wine.

"How did it go, honey?" Madeline asked Fiona, getting up from the couch. "They weren't too hard on you, were they?"

"No, Madeline. It was mostly just telling them what happened over and over again. Nothing I couldn't handle."

The five adults and Charlie sat around the table, enjoying the meal and each other's company. Most of the conversation was light and cheery, and consisted of what Charlie was learning in preschool and which car Elsa was going to buy for Sam. After Charlie had left the table however, the atmosphere settled a bit and Michael cleared his throat seriously.

"I want to apologize to all of you for what went on this past year. I let you all down in so many ways. I-I don't even know how to begin to make it up to you."

"You don't need to, Michael," his mother assured. "You made some mistakes, but you were trying to do the right thing. There's nothing to forgive." She walked around the table to hug him.

"She's right," agreed Sam. "Don't worry about it. That's what friends are for."

Jesse stuck out his hand for Michael to shake. "No hard feelings. We're all in this together."

Fiona placed her hand on Michael's thigh comfortingly. She noticed his eyes begin to water at the loyalty of his friends, and she felt her own eyes moisten as well. Never had she expected to know such wonderful people.

The friends cleared the table and moved into the living room, where they watched Charlie play and enjoyed each other's company. When was time for Charlie to leave so that he could go to bed, Madeline pulled Fiona aside. "I wanted to ask you a favor," she said.

"Of course, what is it?" Fiona questioned, a bit concerned.

"Could you watch Charlie tomorrow afternoon, so I can have lunch alone with Michael?" Fiona agreed immediately. She was only too happy to make it possible for Michael and his mother to spend some time together.

"I don't have anything to do tomorrow, so take all the time you need."

"Great, I'll bring him by around noon. Hopefully he'll take a nap for you." Madeline grasped Fiona's hand briefly and walked over to talk to Michael about their plans for the following day.

Once everyone had left, and all the dishes were washed and put away, Michael began searching for something. "What are you looking for?" Fiona asked curiously.

"My keys. Have you seen them?"

"No," Fiona answered, a bit sadly, "are you going somewhere? Michael stopped looking around and made eye contact with Fiona.

"I thought I'd go back to the loft tonight. It's still pretty run down, but I'm sure you want your couch back."

"Oh," Fiona said, disappointed. "You don't have to go back there you know. You're welcome to stay here tonight." Fiona wanted to ask him to move in with her again, but stopped herself. She still wasn't completely sure that Michael was going to stick around. Plus, she still had to consider Carlos's recent offer. She knew choosing him over Michael would be hard, but stability was becoming more important to her as she got older. Perhaps it was time for her to settle for second best.

Michael, oblivious to her thoughts, considered her offer for a moment but then agreed. "Do you have any spare sheets that I could use?" Fiona nodded, but felt a bit rejected. Did Michael want to sleep on the couch or was he just being polite? Either way, Fiona felt far too exhausted to have a serious conversation, so she got Michael the sheets and went off to her own bedroom, accompanied only by a feeling of unease as she drifted off to sleep.

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Please let me know what you think. Thanks so much for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Here's the last chapter of this story. It's not a completely happy ending, but I seemed righ. Sorry it's a bit short, but I think it's a good place to end.

As always, I don't own Burn Notice.

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Fiona woke early the next morning, and couldn't get back to sleep because of the confusion that filled her mind. Her thoughts were stuck on the conversation she'd had with Carlos the previous morning. She knew her ex-boyfriend was waiting for her decision, but she just couldn't make up her mind without knowing what Michael's plans were. Fiona knew it was wrong to think of Carlos as a consolation prize, but she and Michael had been through so much together. She couldn't call it quits so easily. Finally, she decided to have an honest conversation with Michael, and see whether there was an ounce of truth in his promise to retire.

When Fiona entered her kitchen, Michael was already seated at the table, eating a yogurt and some toast. Fiona wasn't hungry, so she sat before him, determined to get some answers. First though, she had to come clean to him.

"Carlos called me yesterday." Some of Michael's yogurt went down the wrong pipe, and she waited a moment for him to stop coughing. "He wants to have dinner. With me."

Michael nodded but said nothing. Fiona knew him well enough however, to recognize a look of defeat in his eyes.

"Are you going?" he asked quietly.

"Do you _want_ me to go?" Fiona shot back, frustrated by his evasiveness. She realized that this wasn't conducive to a calm conversation but Michael always made her so emotional.

"I want you to be happy," he said, finally looking into her eyes. Fiona felt a mixture of joy and despair at his words. Did he want her to be happy with him? That was the question she wanted to ask, but a part of her dreaded the answer.

"I'm happy with _you_. Most of the time." Michael smiled at this and nodded in agreement.

The spy's smile gave Fiona the confidence to stop beating around the bush and ask the million dollar question.

"Are you really going to leave the CIA? For good?"

"Yes," he answered confidently.

"Why should I believe you?" she asked, trying not to sound mean. "I mean, you've made promises to me before, and you've left me...every time." Fiona felt sorrow creeping into her heart and uncertainty weighing on her mind. "I don't think I want to take that risk again. It would hurt too much."

Michael looked crushed, but Fiona knew she had to be honest. He took his time choosing his words, but eventually replied.

"For a long time I believed in my country, my government. It was something solid, reliable. Something more trustworthy than I'd ever known because, well, you know how I grew up." Fiona nodded for him to continue. "When I was burned, I set my sights on getting back in, because I wanted to be a part of something again. I know I hurt you, but it was a sacrifice I felt was necessary."

Fiona frowned and broke her silence. "It wasn't necessary."

"I know it wasn't, not every time," Michael backtracked. "But I _believed_ it was."

"What's your point, Michael?" Fiona asked, getting impatient.

"My point is that I see the CIA more clearly than I did before. I liked the idea of it, but it's not what I thought it was."

"That doesn't mean you won't leave me again to fight for some other noble cause," she pointed out.

"No, it doesn't. But I _can_ promise you that after all these years, I can see that you are the one constant in my life. You were the one who was there for me. Before you knew my real name, before and after the burn, even when I let you down, when I betrayed you." Michael looked as though he could barely believe it himself. "_You_ are the most important thing in my life, and you always will be." The conviction in his expression rose and then fell. "That's really the only promise I can give you."

Fiona felt warmth spread through her body at his words. It was rare that she received such openness from Michael and she appreciated it. But she still wasn't sure.

"But will that be enough?" she asked heavily. Neither was able to answer that question.

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Fiona and Michael went over to Madeline's that afternoon. They played hide and seek with Charlie for a few minutes while Madeline got ready, trying to squeeze into spots that were obvious enough for Charlie to discover easily. He was thrilled to have both his uncle and 'aunt' play with him, and whined a bit when it was time for Michael and Madeline to leave.

"Don't worry," Fiona consoled him, "we'll have fun without Uncle Michael. I promise." Then she bent down and said to Charlie in a stage whisper, "He doesn't even know what sound a t-rex makes." Both shook their heads in exaggerated disappointment, and Charlie ran off to get his favorite dinosaur.

"Have a good time you two," Fiona said to the mother and son as they left. She couldn't help but notice that Madeline seemed a bit down, but she hoped an afternoon with her first child would cheer her up.

Fiona and Charlie did have a good time together. They played dinosaurs until Fiona had used up her arsenal of 'roars' and then moved on to finger-painting. When Charlie finished his five paintings, Fiona gave him a sponge bath and let him settle down for a movie on the couch, where he promptly fell asleep.

Fiona was a bit surprised that Madeline and Michael still weren't home by the time Charlie woke up, but she knew they had a lot of catching up to do, and hoped things were going well. She was also a bit surprised to discover that she missed Michael. She supposed she had been spoiled by being with him a lot over the past couple days, but the ache reminded her how much better she felt when Michael was near, in any capacity.

She took Charlie outside in the afternoon, and he ran around and did some weeding like his grandmother had taught him. Fiona was just about to text Madeline to see if she wanted her to make Charlie dinner when the front door opened. Fiona peered through the house first, out of habit, to make sure it was someone familiar. When she saw that Michael and Madeline had returned, she let Charlie go over to say hello.

"Did you have a nice time?" Fiona asked the two, before she noticed that they both had slightly red eyes. She grew more concerned when neither one answered her.  
Madeline sat down with Charlie so he could tell her all about his afternoon, and Fiona said goodbye to both of them and followed Michael out to the car. She knew something was wrong, but decided to wait until Michael was ready to tell her.

He didn't say a word until they pulled into Fiona's driveway. Looking down at the steering wheel, Michael let out a quiet sigh. Fiona stayed where she was, wondering if Michael was going to tell her the bad news soon. After a minute, he glanced up at her and said with a shaky voice, "My mom has cancer."

Fiona covered her mouth with her hand and closed her eyes for a moment. "I'm so sorry," she said, her voice cracking.

"She found out last week, but with everything that's been going on, she wanted to wait to tell me."

"How bad is it?" Fiona asked.

"Pretty bad. They want to remove two lobes of her left lung, and then put her through chemotherapy."

"Oh." Fiona's heart sank even further. This was going to be tough on all of them. There were so many questions Fiona had. Before she could decide which one to ask next though, Michael spoke up again.

"I wanted to talk to you, about my plans. Things have changed and before you make any decisions you should know-"

"Just stop, Michael. Please," Fiona interrupted, almost begging for his silence. She had known this was coming; she never should have hoped that things would work out for them. But this wasn't about her now, it was about Madeline, and if Michael thought that she would let him walk away from his mother, he was sorely mistaken.

"I don't care if you leave me, but don't you _dare_ abandon your mother, your family! If you turn your back on them now I will hunt you down and-"

"Fi! Fiona!" Now it was Michael's turn to interrupt, though it wasn't easy. Fiona was practically enraged.

"I'm not leaving anyone!" he shouted, causing Fiona to finally calm down a bit. "I just meant that things have changed for me. While my mom is going through this I told her I'd take care of Charlie." He hurried to explain further. "I know that might not be what you want, and I don't want you to make any choices until you know everything."

Fiona didn't say a word, but her breathing had become more shallow.

"I know I said you were the most important person in my life, and you still are. But right now, Charlie and my mom need me. I'm so sorry." Michael looked truly ashamed of himself. Fiona saw his turmoil and realized that he was waiting for her to say something.

"We'll have to get a bigger house," said Fiona with a small smile.

Michael looked up at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we can't stay in the safe house forever. And my house isn't big enough for you, me, Charlie, and your mom."

Michael finally understood what Fiona was saying. A wide, watery smile enveloped his face, but he still cautioned, "Fi, this isn't going to be easy. You don't have to feel obligated to stick around."

"It isn't an obligation," she said huffily, "it's _family_."

"But just this morning you were talking about going your own way," he reminded her.  
She shook her head and reached out to hold his hand. "I guess I'd just forgotten what a good, good man you are. I'm going going to call Carlos tonight and tell him that I made my choice. Although I suppose I already made it a long time ago."

Fiona did call Carlos that night, to tell him that it was over for good. She felt a bit badly about hurting Carlos's feelings, but there was no doubt in her mind that she was doing the right thing. She couldn't imagine making any other choice. When she hung up the phone and went to join Michael for dinner in the kitchen, she knew that she would never regret her decision.

As they sat and enjoyed each other's company, both knew that things would soon change drastically. They were taking on raising a child together, for an indeterminate amount of time, and caring for a cancer patient. It would be a lot, they knew, but they would carry each other through it. Fiona still had a microscopic seed of doubt that Michael might leave one day, but she knew it was a risk she was willing to take. After all, they were in this together, for better or for worse.

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Sorry for the kind of sad ending, but considering what happened to Madeline in the last episode it seems fairly realistic. I hope you enjoyed this story.

Please review!


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